


It looks a lot like engine oil

by risinggreatness



Series: Circle 'round the sun [107]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risinggreatness/pseuds/risinggreatness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bee is determined to help mom settle the labor dispute on New Alderaan, only dad is acting stubborn (not EU compliant)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It looks a lot like engine oil

“It’s an internal affair. We don’t get involved.”

Or that’s what dad tells her, but Bee’s convinced he still views himself as an outsider ( _the elders tell him that enough_ ). They are – _all_ of them – the royal family; of course they have to be involved.

Bee chooses her next words with the intent to annoy dad, “You sound like the old Order.”

Dad grumbles something unintelligible and sinks into the sofa.

“Dad, I can’t understand you when you talk like that.” She feels like mom, scolding Sam when she talks with her back turned.

“It’s better to stay out of it. Trust me.”

“It’s just the unions. Mom will negotiate and everything will work out.”

The scoff is unexpected. She thought dad was all for labor unions ( _he certainly puts up enough fuss against any implication he is part of the ruling class_ ). And it can’t be for a lack of confidence in mom; she knows dad thinks mom is capable of everything.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter, Bee. Drop it.”

“Dad, the situation is not that bad. Mom’s already got a dialogue going with –”

“I said ‘drop it’, Breha.”

Bee’s head jerks back. The last time dad called any of them by their full names was before they talked to their grandfather.

He mumbles a disingenuous ‘sorry’ and leaves; Bee suspects to find a drink.

It’s unfair, but Bee thinks dad is behaving childishly.

\----------

She and Sam accompany mom to the negotiations the next day. Things don’t go as well as Bee thought.

“We’re not asking much: an 8% raise of the minimum wage.”

“And I’m telling you, I cannot make promises.”

The two union negotiators glance at each other then back at mom, “We had hoped that because of your husband, you would be more sympathetic to our cause.”

Sam is immediately in Bee’s head; _Dad’s not going to like this._

_You didn’t see him last night. Dad’s going to go nuclear._

Bee is impressed with mom’s composure. “My husband’s convictions are personal.”

The union members leave unsatisfied. Mom rubs her temples.

Bee feels her pain. She _is_ sympathetic to their cause. She _wants_ to help, but her hands are tied. She _can’t_ make promises.

Collecting herself, “Come on, girls. Home.”

The New Aldera palace isn’t really home. It isn’t the Coruscant apartment, which overlooks the whole city, or the Naboo house, which opens up onto the vast lake, but it suffices. It’s all appearances anyway; mom makes it clear her authority comes from the senate, not the title.

With Jedi reflexes, mom grabs their wrists before they can run off once they get home.

“Do not tell your dad he was mentioned during the meeting today. Let me do it.” Mom’s eyes flit back and forth between them, “Promise?”

Bee nods; she doesn’t want to talk to dad about it after last night.

Sam, loud-mouthed as ever, “The unions are trying to use grandma and grandpa’s connection to the Corellian labor unions, aren’t they?”

Bee is stunned by her sister’s perception ( _but then she is closer with dad_ ). Bee assumed it was flattery on the union’s part. Dad: the working-class nobody who married a princess.

Mom sighs, “It wouldn’t surprise me if they tried to pose your dad as a people’s hero because of it.”

The galaxy does this to their family all the time. It wears thin.

But they’ve never done it with dad before. The New Republic tried to forget him – he wasn’t committed ( _he keeps his medal from Yavin stashed away, uncared for_ ). Now when the galaxy can use him to their advantage they fan his vanity.

No, it’s a combination of invoking his past and inflating his ego.

No wonder he hates it.

\----------

Healing the rift between dad and unions shouldn’t be difficult. He just needs to talk to them, to see they share the same values – that they want the same things.

Bee drags him to their headquarters without telling him where they’re going. He storms away when he realizes where she’s taken him.

“I don’t get it! Why don’t you want to help them?!”

“Stop meddling, Bee. It’s none of your business.”

“But Grandma and Grandpa Solo were –”

“Members. They supported them. They died because of them.”

“The union didn’t kill them.”

“They might as well have.  I was just a kid – it didn’t matter whose fault it was, I couldn’t tell the difference. The only thing that mattered was my parents were dead and I was alone.”

The riots must have been terrible, too difficult and too chaotic to understand. Bee imagines mobs marching on government building and shots fired into unsuspecting crowds. The bodies of victims ( _not just her grandparents_ ) trampled in the fray as the mob of workers assault the shooters unarmed. Their anger and resentment taking hold rather than their compassion.

“So you won’t help them? Even to stop something like that from happening?”

Dad stops to consider. Coldly, “It’s not my place.”

\----------

Master Rollo joins them at the palace; they should be getting ready to leave, but tension rises in the streets below.

Bee leans over the balcony, awash with disquiet.

“This is unbearable,” she says softly. Master Rollo nods, but Bee’s not entirely sure she heard.

She asks louder, “Isn’t this one of those instances where we should be acting as peacekeepers? Intervene before someone gets hurt?”

“You know it is not that simple when it comes to internal affairs. Do you remember your mother’s request to the Order for aid during the pirate uprisings? The unions have not asked for our help.”

There’s that excuse again. She’s internal here. What good is being a Jedi or a princess if she can’t help people?

Bee can’t stand it anymore. She wanders instead of waiting on the brink. Faint whispers drift into the hall from an open door. Though not usually inclined to eavesdrop, Bee leans against the wall, sticking to the shadows.

“The governor refuses to do anything. The reparations budget doesn’t need to be so large anymore. The whole budget could be easily rearranged.”

“Why should he when the unions are threatening violence?” If mom’s tone is agitated, dad’s is downright irate.

“Because they have a legitimate compliant.”

Seconds stretch into minutes; dad doesn’t respond.

“Han, I know this is a sensitive issue for you –” dad tries to shrug her off, but mom doesn’t let him “– but there needs to be compromise _somewhere_.”

Bee can practically hear dad’s scowl, “And you think it should come from me?”

“I think you could talk some sense into them. At the very least get them to ask for help.”

She doesn’t get to hear dad’s response because Pres appears at the end of the hall. Bee moves as quickly away from the door as possible.

\----------

Bee’s reading when an unexpected knock comes at the door.

Gruffly, “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

Dad grumbles something Bee doesn’t catch and strides on ahead. She has to take two steps for every one of his. Master Rollo comes with them.

She really doesn’t expect it when they arrive at the headquarters he stomped away from just a few days ago.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asks skeptically.

There’s no way dad’s attitude changed from last night.

Dad takes a deep breath, “Because I’m going to convince the unions to take your help.”

“Dad –”

He puts up a staying hand. “Get them to promise not to resort to violence. That’s all I want out of this.”

“What happened to this not being any of your business?”

“I can’t very well ignore a request from the Princess of Alderaan,” he grimaces. Bee giggles; Master Rollo chuckles as well. He opens the door for them and Master Rollo steps inside.

Bee stays put, biting her lower lip, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Dad swallows, “No. I’m not, but you were right. No kid should have to go through the same thing I did.”

Her fingers can just barely touch, arms wrapped around his waist; dad places a kiss on her head.

Into her hair, he whispers one last piece of advice, “By the way, your mom says there’s plenty of credit in the restoration budget.”

**Author's Note:**

> See author bio for discussion on this 'verse.


End file.
